Tag: love
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Kintsugi Morning
The bowl is still cracked,but gold glintsin early light. Steam from the tearises—a soft unravelling. Outside, the plum treeshakes offa single blossom. You are nowhere,and stillI pour two cups. Ryan Stone
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She Named the Stars Out Loud
We pulled off somewherepast the edge of signal,dust curling like smokebehind the tyres. She climbed the bonnet barefoot,leaned back with a bottle of waterand a grinlike she’d stolen it from a god. Said she used to bean astrologer.Said Orion was her first crushand she still wrote him letterswhen it rained. I told her I didn’t…
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They Meet There, Still They Meet
They meet there, still they meet,Where sand gives way beneath bare feet;No words are said, no vows are sworn,Just lips that know what silence mourns—They meet there, still they meet. The moon bends low to kiss the wheat,The stars hang close, the air smells sweet;He brushes leaves from tangled hair,She laughs as if no one’s…
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After the Rain
some daysgetting up is enough.feet on cold tiles,kettle humming,a clean shirt pulled over last night’s ache. you don’t have to shine.not today.just breathe.just be. let the storm pass without explanation.let the sky rinse itself clean. there’s no deadlinefor feeling okay,only weather,moving through. and when it does,when the clouds crack openand a thread of light finds…
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Still Here
Some daysthe light forgets your name.Doesn’t meanit’s gone for good. Even the suntakes timeto climb the sky. You don’t have to rise fast.You don’t have to smile.You just have to stay,breathe once,then once again. There’s no prizefor pretending.But there is gracein holding onwhen everything says let go. You are still here.And that means:you are strong…
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You Are Enough
Not the loudest,not the first to arriveor last to leave.You are the steady warmthbetween seasons,the breath that doesn’t need to be noticedto keep the body whole. You are the chair pulled close,the cup filled without asking,the hand that doesn’t flinch. You carry no banners.You don’t demand. And still,you hold up the skyfor someone. That is…
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Shaping a Poem
It’s a quiet thing, a word foundin the stillness of dawnwhile dreamers slumberand the new moon succumbsto day. A fading thought,soft intake of breathin the long pause between sleep and wake.Sometimes it’s hopeenduring wildfire, flood,or the dusts of time.Maybe dinosaur bones,a lost tomb, or scarecrowsguarding lavender fields. Perhaps a dew-drizzledcobweb, a jonquil, cloudor song. Most…
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Red Shack Triptych
I. Red Shack, White Silence (His Voice — Then) We climbed past where the trees give up,boots sinking through hush and drift,wind at our backs like a warningwe chose not to hear.The red shack waited—tilted, rust-kissed,half-swallowed by snow. Inside,a match struck light against the cold.One flame,then another,until the dark softenedjust enough to hold us. There…
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Falling Up
You will never fall in love with me. Don’t try to convince me That I will always wait for you. If you really look, you’ll see I’m not here for the long haul Don’t imagine You give me reason to stay. When things get hard I’ll leave – Don’t imagine I’m not like the others,…
